


second intermission: once more for good measure

by pegaeae



Series: the life, the lyna, the legend [13]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, Miscarriage mention, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pegaeae/pseuds/pegaeae
Summary: lightning never strikes twice, except for when it does





	second intermission: once more for good measure

this isn’t supposed to happen.

lyna wipes her mouth on her sleeve and regards the remains of her breakfast with tired eyes. the forest breeze brings sweet air over to fill her lungs and rejuvenate her.

she isn’t stupid. she didn’t get sick last time, but she knows the signs by now: the fatigue, the strange dreams, the sensitivity to smells. she wants to scream, wants to throw things, wants to release the anger bubbling up in her belly. this isn’t supposed to happen. this isn’t  _right._ she has less than fifteen years left before the Calling; she’s  _old_ —if she doesn’t miscarry, will something go wrong? if nothing goes wrong, how can she justify her selfishness? how can she let herself carry this baby to term and  _love_  it knowing she will have to abandon it?

she’d only been in the fade a year, but what her absence had done to mydha is unforgivable. she’ll spend the rest of her life attempting to fix that mistake.

and zevran—if he knew, he’d want to keep it. she remembers the way his face lit up when mydha was born. they’d both been apprehensive, but he’d taken to fatherhood like a duck to water. she knows that he wants more children.

if she asked, he would tell her it was her choice, her body, her future, and that he loved her no matter what. she knows him.

should she just hope she miscarries? should she try to force one? she slides a hand over her belly, flat and still.

she thinks, then, of a little newborn left squalling while her mother walked into a blizzard, never to return. she thinks of a little girl sitting alone, watching parents and their children with jealous beetleshell eyes. she thinks of a girl abandoned by her mother, and of a woman outcast by her clan.

it isn’t the same. it will never be the same. but she grinds her teeth and presses her hand more firmly against her abdomen.

“as long as you are with me,” she says, “i will not abandon you.”


End file.
